The year is 2013, when I moved to the U.S with so much passion and enthusiasm. It was the time of my life when I was ready to explore myself like no other time. My move to the US was a transition point in my life. It was a starting point for searching for my real self, my real intent, and real drive.
When I was in Saudi Arabia, the concept of community was ruling, where everyone was expected to think the same. My ideas were not challenged then, and my thoughts were a reflection of everyone else's. Until that point in my life, I did things because they were considered to be the "norm". I never questioned my ideas, beliefs, and values and whether they made sense or not. Yet after moving to the U.S, I was by my own, and I had to make sense of everything I was doing, saying, and believing in, so I can survive. I had so many questions and challenges my way, and I dived into an ocean of information where I started researching
I felt homesick, and I did not want to admit it to my family, because I did not want them to worry about me. I also refused to admit it to myself, thinking that I would remain strong, but I was wrong. Even with all the amazing friends that I made, it was hard to open up on that feeling and express the sorrow, the doubts, and the longing. I looked back at my life, and the people who impacted it. I needed to speak with someone who cared, yet won’t be hurt for my hurt. I needed to ask questions that many fear to ask, and so I went to their source, people who died long ago, but was part of making me who I am.
I started writing letters to dead people who greatly impacted my life; my grandmother, Michael Jackson, Frida, Nizar Qabbani, Eve, and god. I spoke to them, in a journey of looking for an old friend, a postman, something I have been looking for, for so long, me. And I knew that they heard. This journey has no ending point, and it is an ongoing on. The moment I started writing, For You are a Galaxy was born.